


destiny

by allsovacant



Series: fluff & romance [21]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Making Out, Neck Kissing, POV John Watson, Post-Season/Series 04, Soft John Watson, Soft Sherlock Holmes, Tears, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allsovacant/pseuds/allsovacant
Summary: John and Rosie visits Sherlock on Valentine's Day. From there realisations occurs and apologies are said. When fate sets you to the right person, no matter what happens, you'll come back to each other in the end.Happy Valentine's Day, to John and Sherlock and to you, fandom! 💕Not Beta Read. Please do not post to other site. Thank you.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: fluff & romance [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1142561
Comments: 22
Kudos: 57
Collections: Be my Valentine - Johnlock Collection





	1. The Detour

**Author's Note:**

> The work's title came from the 1999 Jim Brickman song of the same [ title](https://youtu.be/IRMsCbDE_5s). I always loved making either of the men sing because I love to sing and I love listening to throwback music. I hope you'll like my work. Happy Reading! 💕

When Sherlock had thrown John and Rosie out of 221 flat when on visit, and advised them to take a 'walk in the park', literally, John already had his suspicions. Sherlock was up to something. He sent a text to Greg as they turned the corner, with his ten year old trailing behind him, inquiring if Sherlock had a case, in which the man replied there wasn't. When they reached the park, Rosie played around while he talked to Greg about the potential cases they'll plan on showing Sherlock. 

It was almost an hour when Rosie tugged at her arm. "Dad?"

John shut off his phone and turned to Rosie. "Mmm?"

The young girl bit her lower lip and John could see the worry forming in his daughter's blue eyes. "Can we go back now?" Rosie replied quietly. "Back to Baker Street? Sherl looks sad when we're not there. Nana Martha said, Sherl really looked really sad when we moved out. I don't want him to be alone, Dad. He's been alone since he was a child."

John stared at his daughter in awe. For four years they lived at Baker Street, after the ordeal of his wife's death and their abduction in Sherrinford planned by Sherlock's sister. God knows John tried to live normally. To really raise his daughter without conjuring the phantom of his wife around. And Sherlock had been there. Most of the time when his nightmares get the best of him, he runs outside the flat, bare foot, unashamed of the tears in his eyes. He was so tired. Exhausted. But in the end, in each and every single one of those sleepless nights, he comes back to Baker Street. Always apologising m to Mrs. Hudson for his panic attacks, who only just smiles at him in return. 

He comes home to Sherlock cradling Rosie while swaying her to sleep. But after those four agonising years, he decided to take a job from a different place. A small practice in Devon, and Sherlock was still there to support him. Sherlock was there to help them move in to a new flat. It wasn't much homy than Baker Street but it was enough for John and an occasional nanny when he needed to go to work. But their goodbyes with Sherlock that day marked the beginning of a change in Rosie. She cried so hard and almost pulled Sherlock's coat-sleeve of. She just won't let go of him. If not for Rosie's nanny, taking her away. Rosie smiled less, laughed less. There were instances when John found her looking in the driveway. Sherlock visiting before Christmas Eve and spending the day with them, were always the highlight of Rosie's year. Not even them paying Mary's graveyard a visit could top that.

 _No._ He wanted to say to his daughter. _No._ There was a time when Sherlock wasn't alone. Because he had John in his life. He vividly remember when Sherlock asked him that question of where he was deployed. _'Afghanistan or Iraq?'_. A question that shook him to the core. In a span of seconds, Sherlock pulled him from the sand dunes of Afghanistan. Once again, he felt alive. When Mycroft told him that he sees the battlefield when he was with Sherlock, Mycroft was wrong. Who would want to live to that trauma again? John doesn't see the battlefield. He sees a reason to live. A reason to crawl out of those dunes and live again. A reason to fight against his demons. But then again, Sherlock once became his nightmare. When the Fall happened, he lost _everything_. He came back on being an empty shell. Then Mary came, and filled him with lies. She manipulated him, used his weakness, betrayed him. She hurt them all. After he gave her what was left of him. Now, if there's something John didn't regret, it was having Rosie.

But because of his own stubbornness. His fear of coming out of a different shell. He refused to .. acknowledge the truth in him. Even when it stood in front of him and practically told him his own life story. 

And now his daughter was calling him out. John felt Rosie squeezed his hand. How long had they been sitting there in the park? He lost track of time. 

"Dad, I don't mind you know." Rosie declared, pulling John out of his deepest thoughts. 

"I'm a big girl now. I understand, Dad. And I want you yo know it's okay. To love and be loved in return, isn't that beautiful? Doesn't every person deserve that? No matter who you are. No labels needed. It's one step to world peace." 

John felt the tears spill from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Rosie has grown to be a smart, compassionate and open-minded kid. 

And all he could do was listen to her words, as she continue to remove the imaginary nails where John locked himself in. As she continue to free him from his own demons, just like Sherlock did. 

\------ 

The road back to Baker Street seemed long, despite for being gone just two hours and from a walking distance. Rosie held his hand, swaying it while they walk. John took a deep breath then let it out. Obviously, Rosie noticed it. 

"You'll be fine, Dad. Spoiler alert: He's probably gonna take you away to Angelo's again." 

That made John stop in his tracks. "What?" 

They reached 221 and Rosie stopped to knock first, before facing him.  
"Duh, Dad. It’s Valentine’s Day. Nana said you used to go there with Sherl." 

John opened and closed his mouth. They did. Not just once. And certainly not just Valentine’s Day. But it is that day is it? 

The door opened showing Mrs Hudson smiling at them. 

"John, Rosie." She went to hug Rosie and before she could even speak, the girl ran inside her flat. 

"Such a lively little girl. So full of energy. I see Sherlock in her sometimes.” When he didn’t answer, Mrs Hudson glanced at him with worry. “Oh. I'm so sorry, John. I didn't mean anything about it..." 

John smiled. "It's alright, Mrs Hudson. I know what you mean. Sherlock helped raising her. She's bound to adapt to some of his quirks. Anyway, uhm ... is he ... Is he finished? With what he's doing? He basically shooed us out earlier this morning." 

Mrs Hudson clapped excitedly. "Oh, he is! You can go up now I believe. He's probably just resting now. I already have Rosie's things. But John —" Something in her voice told John that what she'd say should be taken seriously. 

"Do you think the two of you can talk now?" 

John gave a terse nod. "Yes. I ... I actually wanted to talk to him... about uhm ... moving back?" 

Mrs Hudson's eyes shone with unshed tears as she covered her mouth with both of her hands.  
"Oh, John. That's ... He's going to be so happy!" She whispered. "Well, up you go then!" 

John grinned and nodded as he excused himself to climb up the familiar flight of stairs to the chance he’s going to take. And a huge decision he’s going to make. 


	2. The Right Path

The door was slightly ajar when John reached the top of the stairs. But he still knocked even though he'd known by now that Sherlock wouldn't even hear him.

"Sherlock?" He called out. But no one answered.

John looked around in surprise, as the flat looked like those restaurants that has fairy lights inside. Every furniture as has been pushed to the side. With the exception of a table and two chairs situated in the middle of the flat. The dinner for two setting was complete with a red rose in a vase and a candle. Somehow, John felt transported when he and Sherlock first ate in Angelo's. 

At the thought of that night, John couldn't help but smile. 

There was a faint squeak of the wooden floor behind him, and slowly, John turned to face the man he was looking for, who's currently biting his lower lip. Then Sherlock did something John had not expect. He began to _sing._

> _What if I never knew  
>  What if I never found you  
> I'd never have this feeling in my heart_
> 
> _How did this come to be  
>  I don't know how you found me  
> But from the moment I saw you  
> Deep inside my heart I knew_
> 
> _Baby you're my destiny  
>  You and I were meant to be  
> With all my heart and soul  
> I give my love to have and hold  
> And as far as I can see  
> You were always meant to be my destiny_   
> 

Sherlock looked so uncomfortable, John would've felt pity about the man. But right now, his heart was beating so fast it ached. Subconsciously, he ran a hand against it, not taking his eyes away from the man who's singing his heart out in front of him.

> _I wanted some one like you  
>  Someone that I could hold on to  
> And give my love until the end of time_
> 
> _But forever was just a word, just a word  
>  Something I'd only heard about  
> But now your always there for me  
> When you say forever I'll believe_

How did he ever deserve this man? His eyes burned and tears threatened to fall as he felt every word and every emotion Sherlock was telling him through the song. In all those years, years of not so secret glances to one another. Years of simple touches. Years of longing looks and pent up frustrations. How could John missed that? How could they missed that? But now, now was the time.

"'Maybe all we need is just a little faith  
Cause baby I believe that love will find a way'" Sherlock said quietly. "John, I ... I haven't done any of this ... for real.

"I haven't really tried to put myself out there. You would know... I never really had someone real in my life. Everything ... was fake. Everything was an act. But you ... with you, everything was real. You, you're the closest thing I ever had. You're the closest thing but the one I couldn't have.

"John ... I ..." When tears started to fall from Sherlock's eyes, John pushed forward and embraced him. In the quiet of Valentine's eve, John let go. He cooed Sherlock. He whispered words he haven't told anyone in a long time. Words of promises, of vows of being together. Of doing everything hand in hand every step of the way. And John meant that. He meant every word he said against Sherlock's ears.

Those words he repeated over and over again, as he brushed a soft kiss over Sherlock's forehead, his cheeks, the corner of his lips, his jaw, his collarbone. And when their lips met for the very first time, John took his time. He swallowed his name from Sherlock's lips. He took Sherlock's every moan and gasp. Every sound that Sherlock made while he sealed his promise. To make Sherlock feel the kind of _love_ John deprived for years. He savoured the feel of the tight grip of lithe fingers against the back of his neck and the reddening soft skin against his lips. 

And when Sherlock moaned beneath him, John bit at the spot of the man's neck, he had always set his eyes upon all those years ago. Untouched, he felt Sherlock came against his stomach. Fuelled by desire and the heady smell of Sherlock's release, John rutted against his _lover's_ thigh. And when Sherlock leaned in and grazed his teeth over his ear, he was done. He came with a grunt followed by a curse.

"Fuck." John swore.

Sherlock hummed.

"Is that okay ....?" He asked lazily, as Sherlock combed his fingers through his hair. 

"John, you do remember I do not have enough data to compare with?"

John's head snapped up, possessiveness crawling inside his skin. "What? You don't need data."

Sherlock chuckled, obviously enjoying the torture of seeing John jealous. Payback maybe. Alright, John deserved that. But he remembered the uneasy feeling he felt as well, when it came to Ms Adler or Janine. As if Sherlock knew where his mind went, the man leaned in softly, shyly placing a kiss on his lips. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, John. Thank you for making my very first special." Sherlock whispered quietly.

John smiled. "And to you, as well ... sweetheart. I felt every emotion of your song. So, I wanted to say thank you for that as well."

"Child's play." The man replied but John knew better. It was there in Sherlock's eyes, so he just giggled. 

"Where's Rosie?" Sherlock asked.

John grinned. "Down below, with Mrs Hudson. She said she'll sleep over.” He paused. “And that ... she doesn't mind." He added in a serious tone of his voice. "Moving back… and having two Dads." He murmured those last two.

Sherlock’s eyes bored through him. That John felt his whole focus shifting to the man.

“The both of you never left. For me. I always have you here.” Sherlock pointed to his temple, then placed a hand to his heart. And when Sherlock smiled softly in return at him, eyes filled with love and affection, John knew he found the one. 

“You, William Sherlock Scott Holmes…” John shook his head with a smile, he’s at loss for words. 

It was then he thought Sherlock looked so beautiful laying there while the yellow light touched his exposed skin. And he now belongs to John, all for him to worship. Christ he's not getting any younger. But there's no rush, they'd make the wait worth it.

"So." John began, brushing an invisible lint from Sherlock's open collar.

"Dinner?" Sherlock asked playfully with a smile lighting up his whole face.

"Starving." John replied as he leaned in once again, kissing Sherlock for the — but who's counting? Not him. Because he has planned to do that and more over and over again.

And if they were to start again, here it would happen. In Baker Street, flat 221b, on a Valentine's Day. Fitting, wasn't it?

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the fluffiest of fluffiest I have written — I don't really compare my works, I just have this feeling. Anyway, this made me cry. And then my skin literally crawled afterwards hahahaha. Mistakes are all mine!
> 
> Thank you for reading, lovely! 🤍


End file.
